Oblivion
by Phoenix R Pearl
Summary: Alone on a world she could only ever encounter in her wildest dreams, the sole survivor of Cerinia's doom reflects on her experiences that put her in this position. You know how it ends. Do you know her journey?


**Author's Notes: Well, it would seem I'm quite fond of starting stories and then abandoning them here, wouldn't it? I don't want to give myself bad press but I'm also tempted to say don't get your hopes up about this one, either. I will say, however, that this project has been one at the back of my mind for quite some time now. Krystal's story deserves to be told, and it deserves a better, grittier tone than the tone a Nintendo game would give it. I'd like to try my hand at that, I just hope I'm worthy enough to. So if you like it, consider leaving a review. They keep me going. -Phoenix**

* * *

 **-Prologue-**

Cracks spiderwebbed across the glass before Krystal, accompanied by a horrific _GRIIIIIIIIND_ as the walls of her prison shattered and shattered and shattered. Crying out, she tried raising her arms to cover her head, but was unsuccessful in her attempts. Her body refused to respond to her frantic pleads to protect herself.

And suddenly she was falling and falling and—

 _Falling._

Everything happened so fast. Explosions boomed above and below her, then the plummeting sensation of freefall overtook Krystal. A screech of terror ripped from her throat, her arms reaching forward instinctively in what she knew was a vain attempt to catch something that would save her from the perilous drop to what would certainly be her death.

But, by some miracle, her hands latched around something.

Jarred to a halt so rough it nearly pulled both shoulders from their sockets, Krystal's body collided full force into the stone wall that once had been beneath her. Struggling to block out the pain, she managed to duck her head in time, sparing her face from the impact. Already soaked from the rain pelting her and the Krazoa Palace, she waited until she stopped swaying before looking up.

As she did, she heard something—some _one_ —above her grunt with effort before she felt the rod in her hands lift. Using her momentum to her advantage, Krystal caught the orange-furred hand outstretched towards her. His fur was slicked from the rain, and she had to dig her nails into the rough hide to keep her hand from sliding off. Air hissed through her saviour's teeth, but he didn't voice a complaint.

It was then she looked up into his eyes—

* * *

Krystal's body jumped sharply as she woke, a quick gasp bursting forth from her lips. The silence was disconcerting, considering the cacophony of thunder and shouting that just moments ago overwhelmed her senses. All that lingered in her mind's eye in the moments after were heavy rain and bright green eyes.

Turning over in the strange bed—she'd been told the name of it was a 'cot'—Krystal stared out of the window taking up an entire wall of the room and out at the stars. She heaved a sigh when the bed didn't sway like her hammock back home used to.

 _Home_.

The word echoed hollowly through her like the name of a dead lover. This place certainly was not her home. And likely never would be. Conveniences were obtained by the push of a button. News reached through a strange screen from an unfamiliar being. This place was full of things she could never begin to hope to understand.

Like the bed.

This bed was stiff, and creaked softly with each movement, the mattress and blanket enveloping her body almost uncomfortably so. Strangling back the thought, she focused on the darkness of space outside the window. Several months ago, the sight of the stars like this would have calmed her.

She did not know these stars.

Krystal curled her knees into her chest and pulled the blanket up to her nose, nuzzling into the overly-soft pillows despite the sensation of feeling smothered. She shifted her eyes to the small, thin rectangular device mounted on a shelf on the cold metal wall. A red light shone from the end of it, projecting a series of unfamiliar symbols against the wall. When one of the numerals changed without warning, Krystal found herself gasping and hiding underneath the blanket.

The sound of someone's laugher breathing the silence sent Krystal leaping out of bed on winged feet, panting as the tips of her fingers went numb. The chill of the metal floor against her bare feet barely registered as she ran to the opposite side of the room from the laugh. Subconsciously, Krystal reached for her staff but when her hand closed around open air, Krystal's body went as cold as the floor on her feet and any air remaining in her lungs felt like it had been crushed out as the heavy weight of panic settled in her chest.

Her heart felt like it was pounding against stone as a silhouette appeared in the doorway beside the cot. He took a step forward, his arm reaching to hit a switch on the wall, and the strange lights on the ceiling faded on. Krystal curled her toes towards the soles of her feet and tensed the muscles in her legs, prepared to spring.

Pressing her back into the wall, Krystal threw her arm out and cried, " _St—styk'abarkh!"_

 **Stay back!**

Krystal realized as soon as the words left her mouth that the stranger would not understand. Still, it managed to accomplish her goal of getting him to stop his advance. Standing still, he bowed his head slightly and put his hands up. Krystal recognized the sign of no intended harm. She let her toes uncurl, but did not relax her legs.

She responded with her own shift of body language, relaxing her shoulders and lowering her own arm. Stepping forward from the wall. She raised a trembling hand, waved it back and forth some, then said, " _Kia'kaa_."

 **Hello.**

The man mirrored the action and said, "Hello."

 _"Pe'ma kadumo a Krystal."_

 **My name is Krystal.**

The man grinned faintly, then responded, struggling to form the words on his tongue. _"Pe'ma kadumo a Fox."_

"… Focks?" asked Krystal, finally relaxing her legs.

"No," he shook his head. " _Fox,"_ he repeated, emphasizing the last sound.

"Fo _x_ ," repeated Krystal, and he nodded.

Fox turned and gestured towards the other door in the room, the one Krystal had surmised was the one that would take her out into the hall. "Come on. I'll take you to the bridge."

Once again fully in control of her own body, Krystal moved towards Fox, pausing again and looking down at her feet when a strange tingle went through her ankle up to the middle of her shin. She looked up at Fox again, hesitating to take another step.

Fox cocked his head, his green eyes questioning.

Krystal pointed to her foot and tried to remember a word she'd heard Fox say before he let her sleep. "S…tr…ange," she mumbled.

Fox's eyes darted to her feet and then back up to her eyes. His mouth hung slightly open, his head still tilted before realization crossed his face and he smiled again. "Artificial gravity," he answered the unspoken question. "It's normal. Won't hurt you." He emphasized with a shake of his head.

Krystal, unsure if the gesture meant she was safe or not, didn't move.

Fox passed a hand over his face and white-furred muzzle, chewing on his lower lip as his bushy red tail swished behind him. "Here." He turned to face her, then punched one of his hands into the palm of the other, followed by another shake of his head.

Even more lost than before, Krystal's eyebrows drew together and her lips pulled downwards.

Shaking his head, Fox sighed, then jogged in a tight circle around the room. He stopped again right in front of Krystal. "See? Safe."

Now understanding, Krystal walked slowly towards the door, Fox following in step behind her to open the door and close it once out in the corridor.

Once on what Fox called the bridge, Krystal immediately went to the chair where she'd placed her few belongings the night before. Despite the large, baggy clothes Fox allowed her to wear before going to rest of the night, she grabbed the belt holding the scabbard for her staff and clipped it around her waist. Feeling at home with the familiar weight at the base of her spine, Krystal turned back to Fox with a confident smile. He smiled back before taking a seat in the large chair at the centre of the room. Instead of sitting, Krystal walked around the perimeter of the room, her hand resting comfortably on the shaft of her compacted staff.

She turned back to Fox. She could barely see his face through the holographic screen he'd called up and was looking at. "I… Sorry?"

With a wave of his hand, the screen folded downwards and now rested over his lap so he could look at her without an obstruction. "What are you sorry for?"

Krystal looked around the room before turning and looking out the large, panoramic window and at the massive expanse of space, no star or planet in sight for hundreds, maybe even thousands of light years. She focused on the reflection of her own hollow cyan eyes instead of the endless hollowness of space just inches from her face. Her priority had to be fixing this emptiness within herself. But somehow, that scared her more than the idea of what lay outside of this ship.

"Every…things," she said.

"There's nothing you need to be sorry for, Krystal."

"Is my… fau…lt."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

Frustrated, Krystal looked out of the viewport, tightening her hand around her staff. The mechanics in the weapon ground together softly, and she stopped before she knew it would extend to its full length within its sheath. She took her hand away from the shaft in favour of tapping the tips of her claws against the glowing blue gen inside of the gold, almond-shaped head. She spun on her heel, fully facing Fox for the second time since arriving on the bridge. Bending her knees slightly, Krystal leaned forward and lifted her hands over her head, pretending to carry something she barely had the strength to support.

" _Leukank_ ," she said in her native tongue.

Fox looked from her arms down to her back, and then her legs. Then, understanding, he stood up, the screen over his thighs unaffected. Krystal stood straight and replaced her hand to the length of her staff.

Krystal stepped back when Fox moved to put a hand down on her shoulder. Letting out a deep breath, he lowered his arm back to his side and shook his head before pointing at her. "Not _leukank_ ," he said, firmly.

 _"Eh'm leukank,"_ insisted Krystal, squaring her shoulders and curling her fingers into tight fists. She hated to admit it, almost as much as she hated to admit to this new reality she faced:

 **I am a burden.**

Fox straightened and pursed his mouth into a thin line, unsure whether or not pretending to not notice the tears in her eyes would be the right thing to do.

Lowering her voice and putting more emphasis on the first word, Fox repeated, " _Not leukank_."

Krystal sucked in air through her nose and blinked rapidly a few times. Fox watch her throat bob as she swallowed, and when he could see her eyes clearly again, the tears were gone. Before she had the chance to respond, the door to the bridge slid open, and Krystal took a step back from Fox.

Fox turned as the doors hissed shut, nodding to the elderly grey rabbit as he stepped in, a white porcelain mug clenched in his hand as he made his way to the seat behind and to the right of Fox's chair. "Hey there Fox, Krystal," he nodded to both of them.

"Yo," said Fox, as Krystal replicated Peppy's gesture.

"Hello… Pepp…y?" said Krystal slowly.

"That's right," he said with a warm smile, his brown eyes twinkling behind the thin reading glasses he wore. "You're catching on quick."

" _Tyxerra_ ," said Krystal before she corrected herself. "Tha… thank you."

"You're very welcome," Peppy took a sip from his mug and turned his chair away from them. "Hot water is still in the lounge if you'd like to make some tea."

Krystal recognized the rich, earthy smell of the tear as it permeated the bridge. She didn't need clarification as she turned to Fox and requested quickly. "Take me to… lounge?"

Fox nodded and gestured for her to follow him. "Come on, I'll show you where it is."

Krystal hesitated to follow. "Not _leukank_?"

Fox smiled and responded, "Not _leukank_."

Forlornly, Krystal looked over her shoulder and at the starscape through the viewport as she followed Fox from the bridge.

At one point, that might have been all she considered herself.


End file.
